


nearest thing to love

by svpportive



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Angst, Communication, F/M, First Dates, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Post-Season/Series 03, cause again it’s me, feat. The Bench™️, jk it’s still me kids it’s like a misunderstanding at best, oh and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22170751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svpportive/pseuds/svpportive
Summary: hardy and miller, in the words to be had after thewords.
Relationships: Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Comments: 7
Kudos: 99





	nearest thing to love

**Author's Note:**

> as always a few things before we start: a) obviously this was written on my phone at 3am, we know the deal by now 2) olivia colmans eyes made eye contact with me (the camera) during her golden globes speech which led me straight to hell (here) c) two trucks by lemon demon was on repeat for this bc it fucks, but u already knew I was gay so and e) i missed these two emotionally repressed detectives

  
Hardy, believe it or not, was a timely sort of man.

It was something he took pride in - being punctual. It showed that he was dependable, respectable, and could be relied on for whatever the task was ahead of them, even when his gruff general demeanor would ultimately immediately indicate otherwise.

Miller, on the other hand, swung in the opposite direction. She was never late enough to cause any actual alarm or bring things completely to a halt ( a fact she would often bring up when he inevitably griped about it), but it was always upwards of five to ten minutes. Enough that every time without a doubt there was a moment where he was sure she just would not be turning up. What got him the most about it all was that she didn’t seem to pay it any mind besides some meager, infuriatingly charming apologies on arriving, as if he hadn’t been stood alone (or worse, not alone) somewhere looking lost.

Suffice to say, Hardy has not been late many times in his life, and is therefore wholly unprepared to be almost an hour late today of all days, for an event he’d been holding in various accidental dreamscapes for years now.

Miller had even reminded him as she was leaving for the day - early with the rest of them, because it was a Friday and she wanted the extra time to “spruce up” (even when he didn’t understand why she’d bother sprucing up for _him_ of all people). She’d smiled (smug with hints of nerves and shyness, a combination he hadn’t seen before but works wonderfully) and told him that while she wouldn’t force him out today he better be there at 8pm sharp.

And god, but he’d actually _rolled his eyes_ at her and told her he’d _“never been late before, unlike some people”_. 

“Prick,” he mutters to himself, throwing his desk into even more disarray as he tried to locate his keys that were the only way he’d get out of here and, “got them,” talking to himself in the adrenaline rush that’d hit him as soon as he’d glanced at the timepiece on his laptop, sending his blasted metal heart in overdrive.

He grabs his coat and runs out in a rush, barely nodding to the night cleaners and hoping to some god that he hadn’t forgotten anything important.

*

Miller fingers the tablecloth, and gives another desperate yet casual look at the door, one of many over the past hour. She resists the urge again to stare at her phone, knowing that there was nothing to see except the four missed calls she’s already left and a frankly unhelpful text from Beth reading simply _:(( kids are good tho_.

What she really wanted to know is what was _wrong_. A break in the case they were currently working? Something happened to Daisy? A car accident?

The stressful scenarios she’s been cooking up over her recent quiet time have been worrying company, but the final, most realistic one of the night drops in as the waitress comes over with a bottle of wine, on the house, with a pitying smile on her face.

She’d been stood up.

And by Hardy no less. Someone who she trusts with everything, who she thought she could trust with her-

She blinks furiously; she has a rule about not crying in public, and a _date_ of all things wasn’t going to be the reason she breaks it. She pours herself some of the pity wine and takes a dedicated swig.

She wonders what did it. Did he not mean what he’d said, two days ago in the dimly lit dark of his kitchen? She knew things would shift when the things they left unsaid were said, and that it would change their dynamic in some ways, but even in some of her more creative fears she couldn’t have anticipated him not showing up at all. Was he realizing that there was too much built around them, and that when it came to it they would just crumble? Is tonight their somehow perfect dynamic crumbling?

Tonight was supposed to be about them having a conversation that wasn’t the heated kiss and whispered confessions of two nights before, the tender hand on her cheek and the comfort of a hug she’d missed out on years ago, the suddenly validated dreams she’d had upon driving home. Tonight was going to be them sitting down and speaking as two adults with busy and exhausting and heavy lives discussing what a possible future of the two of them could look like, with more thought to practically than feelings.

She calls for the check, which arrives swiftly, as it’s just the appetizer she’d ordered ten minutes in, back when his lack of appearance was still a fun experience that would’ve lead to teasing, because he swore by his punctuality to a hilarious degree.

She just doesn’t understand his thought process, which is the weird thing, because it’s very rare when she can’t trace his ideas, even the most harebrained, to the cause. Even at his most nervous of what their words could lead to, she would think Hardy would have owned up to it outright and to her face.

Outside the cold air hits her all at once with the dress - the _dress_ \- she’d put on, and it’s dark, and she’s alone again suddenly, _finally_ , and it’s like those two facts hit her and the tears return unbidden, with no rules broken. 

*

It’s not surprising that she ends driving to the beach, to the bench they sometimes ate lunch at, and sometimes tied loose ends at. God, work was going to be a nightmare Monday morning.

Suddenly, however, there is the sound of tires screeching too fast on gravel, and headlights lighting up her crying face before they’re off again, and someone is running up to her.

It’s Hardy, and he’s breathing heavily, and he’s opening his mouth but she doesn’t wait, standing up to face him, steel in her tone before the word is even out.

“Coward.” She says, cutting through whatever _bullshit_ he was undoubtedly preparing about the weight of their decisions or whatever.

It stops him in his tracks. “What?”

“You couldn’t just come and tell me to my face that you regretted it? I knew it was going to be hard, and I was still willing to take a chance, but you? I never pegged you for a coward, Hardy, but not showing up at all, just letting me stew in the rejection without courtesy because of whatever fears you projected that you decided on your own that it wasn’t worth it and you didn’t want any of this actually, any of _me_ and all the complications that come with.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “I sat there like an idiot for an hour, Hardy, _where were you_?”

“I just-“ his expression changes, “what?”

She raises her chin, “What.”

“What are you talking about?”

She bristles, and he shakes his head and changes tactics. “It’s not like that at all Miller I- I, it was just work. _Rejection_?”

“Well what was I supposed to think? You’re never late! If I’m even half a minute late you fly off the-“

He bats he hand away, “Yeah I know, I know, but. The dry cleaner, I was reviewing his statement - he wasn’t at the market at the time the cabbie says he was, which is strange because we have a record of his movements besides that one-” he clears his throat, “sorry. But I lost track of time and before I knew it, I saw the time and it was more than half past. My phone died at some point from trying to load some kind of bloody new mapping system so I didn’t get anything you might’ve sent me- I went to the - restaurant then came straight here - I’m so sorry.”

He takes a step towards her, and at her nod takes another. “I really did just get caught up with work, Miller.” his eyes are devastatingly gentle, “I’m so sorry I made you think for a second - well, any of that drivel.” His hand comes to her cheek, like it did two nights ago. “I can’t promise I’m not scared, neither can you, but I really do want all of this, you, _complications_ and all, and I- I want to talk about it.”

“Are you sure?” she asks.

“Endlessly.”

“There’s a lot to cover.”

Hardy nods in earnest, “Then we’ll have a proper discussion. I’m in this, Miller, and this is worth all the time and effort it needs.”

She reaches for his hand and he gives it, and they both finally sit down, facing away but still hearing the loud crash of the waves hitting the cliffs. “That’s the dry cleaner’s alibi gone then, we’ll have to call him back in.”

He‘s quiet, and she clears her throat. “I’m sorry I called you a coward.”

He chuckles. “Sorry I stood you up.”

She leans her head on his shoulder and turns their hands over in her lap. “I think the chippie might still be open if you fancy it; I’m famished, I didn’t actually eat much at the restaurant.”

“Yeah alright, my treat.”

“Well I’d hope so.”

Neither of them made to move.

“Actually, _shit_ , I can’t. ‘Might’ve left my wallet at the station.”

Miller laughs, clear and delightful, “Bloody typical. You’re a shit date, Alec Hardy.”

**Author's Note:**

> title is from fragile by miss kylie minogue bc idk why having all my broadchurch fics (of which there are now 5 of ,, guys FIVE) titled dramatically by kylie makes me laugh but oh well  
> im posting this on my phone (believe it or not this is the first time for that) so apologies in advance but also? I’ll obsessively clean it up in the morning (also on my phone) so it’s all good. enjoy my ode to wanting dt to apologize dramatically to me ~~and also to get touched by a human being again~~  
>  im [svpportive](https://svpportive.tumblr.com/) on tumblr so come say hi if u liked this !! if u didnt u can still come say hi i guess


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